I feel like one of those donkeys struggling uphill with a big burden that's so heavy, he doesn't notice until another donkey asks, "Wow, how did you get up that hill with that load?"
And the first donkey asks, "Duh, what load?"Just call me an ass, lol
Haiti last week, running around, touring, all the while escorted by four armed security officers, first time I've ever toured in 13 years in Haiti escorted by armed guards. We were in a large group for part of the trip, that's why...
I interviewed kids who lost their parents in the violence that is Cite Soleil, one said, "My father's head was chopped off by gangsters." I hugged a little boy who stood as cold and silent as a stone statue because he's so numbed by the violence he can't respond to affection. And I saw a voodoo ceremony, which was kinda cool and made me want to ask the houngan if I could swipe a bit of his very powerful clarin( rum).
Came home Friday, FIL was in the hospital, we went Saturday to take him home with us for the weekend. That was my weekend last week. Not a heck of a lot of time to write. I had a sick FIL to care for, laundry from Haiti, unpacking, etc. etc. No time to write. But I still have a book due in September.
So I took Monday off, wrote 15 pages. Yay. But then self-doubts kicked in. These pages suck, blah blah blah. Worked Tuesday through Friday. Wrote yesterday, 11 more pages. I have a better grip, I think, on this story. I always panic when writing, thinking the story isn't this or that. How can I make it stronger, the hero sexier, yada yada.
I keep forgetting the mantra, JUST WRITE IT.You can always change it later.
Last night I had a dream about Nora Roberts. Not that I WAS Nora Roberts, that would have been quite funny. This dream was funny in itself. In the dream, Nora and I were sitting on a bed in someone's room, like a girls' sleepover, like at RWA National. And I looked at Nora and I gushed, "Wow Nora, how do you do it? You're soooo amazing! Look at all those books you put out! You must love to write!"
And Nora replied, "Hell no. I'd rather be shopping."
That made me feel better, even though it was only a dream.
In the meantime, today I need to spend quality time with Dh since I'm leaving him again for the second time in two weeks, clean the house because we're picking up FIL and bringing him over for dinner tonight, finish laundry, and pack for my trip to Honduras tomorow in which I'll see more poverty and more destitution and more starving kids. The dog threw up on the carpet and judging by the smell, there is something dead in our attic. DH is busy with yardwork and arguing with me that there isn't something dead in the attic, it's probably his dirty socks.
I have a hero who wants to have hot sex with the heroine and I'm leaving him in a state of sexual frustration because I have laundry to finish and stuff to mail and I have NO time to attend to his arousal.
I'm leaving the country tomorrow and leaving him with a permanent erection, kinda like a literary Viagra state.
Nora, if you're out there, ever reading this, I'd rather be shopping, too.